


Pink Shoes

by Marie_Ciel



Category: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Ciel/pseuds/Marie_Ciel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter between a beautiful "angel" and a musician in pink shoes. Tetsuya isn't exactly a womanizer, but usually he remains capable of thinking coherently in the presence of a cute girl... and did she just say she liked his shoes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Shoes

Tetsuya had been lost in a magazine article, his eyes dazedly scanning the columns of text when an unfamiliar voice sliced through his thoughts and the words on the page. This wasn't an unwelcome development- he had been sitting on the studio's sofa for quite some time while some of the other members were shooting their parts for the PV. He was being a good boy and waiting his turn, though even the most well-behaved of children could become impatient once in a while. At the time, a few fashion magazines were his only distractions-- now he had unexpected company.

"I'm sorry, what?" The bassist apologized absentmindedly, not having completely registered what was said. His deep brown eyes, currently glazed over in boredom, flitted from the magazine in his hands to the stranger who had spoken to him.

With the effortless simplicity of a light switch being flipped, he brightened. His grip on his reading material slackened, and only by innate reflexes did he catch it before it slipped through his fingers.

Vaguely Tetsuya remembered being informed of a modeling agency sharing the studio for a few days while they were conducting a photo shoot. What he had not been informed of, however, was that the heavens were apparently dumping angels into the studio that day. How odd.

His new newfound company appeared to be one such model- though if Tetsuya had been asked to identify her, his words would have been more along the lines of the latter assumption.

"Your shoes," The woman repeated as if nothing was wrong, as if her companion did not have the appearance of one who had been knocked on the head with a concrete block. She innocently indicated said clothing on Tetsuya, managing to draw his attention there. "I really like them. You don't usually see shoes in a color like that... Pink is my favorite." She explained, smiling shyly.

Tetsuya had to blink a few times to get his thoughts in order. Translating rapidly from gibberish to Japanese, he glanced down at his magenta high-tops and intelligently replied, "Ah... so they are. Pink." He said this with a hint of surprise and awe, as if she had just informed him that he was floating several inches off of the ground. Which, as it happened, wasn't far from how he felt.

If this woman knew Tetsuya personally, then she would have immediately recognized this as more than slightly odd. Tetsuya could keep a level head- or at the very least, a firm grasp on his own language- around just about anyone. Even if he was nervous to the point of shaking fingers and a trembling heart, on the surface, it was either an easy smile or heartened determination. Never this. Never did he fall to incoherency like this.

Of course the woman was quite pretty- it was part of her job description. But she also possessed a certain unique quality about her that went far beyond simple beauty. She carried with her a certain sort of spark, a liveliness and vitality that was instantly infectious. Effortless kindness was etched in her earnest smile- this, a rarity among her occupation. And she was _cute._ Tetsuya couldn't get over any single detail- her long chestnut-brown hair that curled a little at the ends, the frilly white dress she wore, down to the sparkly white heels on her dainty feet.

The closest approximation to how he was feeling just then would be, at any moment he was either going to choke and die or start singing.

Ah... the glories of infatuation.

"Are you here with the band?" She asked curiously, gesturing toward the far door, beyond which the dressing rooms for Tetsuya and his bandmates were.

"Ah, yes!" He replied after a moment of processing. "I'm Tetsuya, the bassist."

"Really?" The woman brightened visibly, even more than before. Now it seemed only a matter of seconds before Tetsuya stopped breathing. Unaware of her companion's inner struggle for life in her presence, she continued, "I truly love music. To be able to make it and share it with others is such a great thing... for both musician and listener."

Tetsuya nodded enthusiastically, reminding himself to keep the oxygen coming as he did so.

"Music is really a powerful thing... The people who make it can freely share their true emotions without the world judging them by it. And then what comes out is wonderful music that the world can enjoy. It's great for everyone!" She spoke emphatically, and then, realizing how she had gone on, blushed lightly. "I-I'm sorry. Being a musician is just really... cool." The model decided on the word and nodded.

Tetsuya, meanwhile, had regained a firmer grasp on his understanding of language. "I agree. Letting music reach all people, making them happy and living a life filled with that... well, what can I say? I am a musician." He laughed, the sound ebbing with tension release.

The model giggled. "That's true!" She opened her mouth as if wishing to say more, but was interrupted by an indiscriminate shout from somewhere behind her.

"That would be manager-san...” Her expression fell, apparently disappointed at having to leave so soon. "Well, it was very nice meeting you, Tetsu-san. And I'm glad someone has an appreciation for pink shoes." With that, she gave a cute little wave and turned to the source of the call. The sound of her soft giggle still hung in the air, heavy like a fog that clouded the mind of the bassist. It seemed as if his thoughts were not his own, and he moved by the will of an undefined force.

"Wait! Excuse me..." Tetsuya jumped to his feet, the magazine falling, forgotten, to the ground. The model paused and looked over her shoulder, smiling. "What is your name? I never asked..."

"My name?" She sounded surprised. "I'm sorry! That's rude of me, not to introduce myself." The woman grinned, making Tetsuya's heart do an uncomfortable awkward somersault. "Ayana Sakai."

"Ayana... a very pretty name." Tetsuya repeated, reflecting her smile with his own, an automatic response.

But this was not what he was thinking.

_I want to be by your side forever, gazing at your smile._

This was it. This was the moment of everything, and nothing. He was finished, done for, _complete_. If he could not see her, he would be empty. If he could not be by her side, he would fade to nothing. If he could not have her, he would cease to exist altogether.

In that moment, his thoughts instead were,

_I was born for seeing you._


End file.
